


Hollywood Sunset

by a_january_girl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: California, Episode: s07e19 Hollywood A.D., F/M, Post-Episode s07e19 Hollywood A.D., beach smut, sunset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8103079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_january_girl/pseuds/a_january_girl
Summary: Post-Episode - Hollywood A.D.What happened after Mulder and Scully left the empty movie set...





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have several people to thank for this fic… @sunshinetoday, @alldolleduppink and @crossedbeams, you girls are the best when it comes to inspire and help me :)  
> And thank you to the anonymous lovebirds I saw on the beach last August who, somehow, inspired this fic!

As they leave the silent set, hand in hand and giggling like teenagers, Scully encourages Mulder to find a way to shake off his frustration. After watching that stupid movie, he’s so offended that even her fingertips tracing his jawline aren’t completely successful at soothing away the tension.

They make their way back to his hotel room where she has left her suitcase next to his. She has a room to herself just across from his, where she scattered some clothes here and there, used the bath tub and messed up the bed for good measure, but it is just for show. They slept in his room the night before, and are planning to do the same for the rest of their stay in LA. They didn’t even have to talk about it when they first arrived. It has been natural for them to retreat in one room instead of two, they’ve been spending most of their nights together as of late. Sharing a bed with her is a new habit but right from the very first night it has felt like the most natural thing.  
He is still clearly upset by the events of the evening, but she doesn’t want to hear his whining. She rolls her eyes and chides him when he lets himself tumble down on the bed and turns the TV on. 

“We’re on holiday, it’s warm, we have that credit card, and as I told you already, we’re alive and relatively young. So is the night. Don’t tell me I have to draw you a picture, Mulder” she says with a cocked eyebrow and a devilish smile. She slides her headband off and throws it at him. It lands on his chest and when he sits up to have a better look at her, clasping the wide elastic in his fist, she is running her hands through her red locks. Flirty Scully can always lift his spirits and change his heart. In the face of her playfulness his anger starts to recede and hopefulness builds up in its place.

Scully seals the deal, saying “Let’s do something fun...” and in an instant the TV is turned off, Mulder is on his feet, smirking and ready to oblige.

She proceeds to strip languidly from her dress, letting it fall to the floor with the last traces of his bad mood, taking her time under his appreciative gaze, until she is standing in front of him in only the tempting lace of her underwear. He grabs her arms, in an instant desperate to make love to her, to make up for his sulking, but she just kisses him square on the lips and escapes into the bathroom leaving him hanging. She has grabbed a few random things from her suitcase and from the bathroom, he hears water running, clothes ruffling on the floor, so he trades his tuxedo for a clean pair of jeans and a black button-down shirt. 

When she emerges, all traces of mascara or lipstick are gone and Mulder is taken aback by how effortlessly beautiful she looks. Of course, she had looked sexy in her evening dress—really she’s mind-blowing in anything, but even more so when she drops the business suits and gets dolled-up. But now the simplicity of Scully without anything added on takes his breath away. He can’t believe how cute she is—jeans that clung heavenly tight to her legs and then above that drowning in his Knicks t-shirt, the one he couldn’t find in his drawers and thought he’d lost months ago.

He can’t help but smirk at the sight of her petite frame lost in his oversized shirt, secretly thrilled that she is wrapped up in something that belongs to him and is not the least embarrassed to finally admit that she’s had it in her possession the whole time. But he doesn’t say anything. He just takes her hand and leads her out of the door.

“Let’s go for drinks,” she says, locking the promise of “later” enticingly away.

Now he thinks about it, this will be their first official date, the first time that they’d go out like a normal couple, and she looks as giddy as he feels. It is funny how a simple night out for drinks can make them nervous when they are already so perfectly acquainted with each other’s bodies.

 

After a fifteen minute stroll, they find themselves sharing a table in a crowded restaurant by the ocean side, something they would never be able to do in Washington. Back there, Scully is still hesitant to be out in plain sight with Mulder. 

Their sexual relationship has existed for a few weeks now, its newness still makes navigating through their everyday life a little awkward and fragile. They both know how strong their feelings for each other are, there’s no doubt about that but they’re still unsure about how to behave when they’re alone together, when they’re doing all the small things normal couples take for granted.

In the bedroom, everything  works to absolute perfection, while such a simple thing as going out for dinner still seems insurmountable, an impossible reconciliation between years spent eating together as partners and this strange new thing between them.  

But things are different here in California, it’s easier for Scully to let her guard down and be casual, Mulder understands. Maybe because this feels like home to her, and brings back happy carefree memories of her childhood in San Diego, he thinks.

It’s strange how much things have changed since they started sleeping together, he marvels at how much Scully had been holding back, how much of her he would never have known if they had never taken the risk and crossed that line. He never thought she could be so carefree, though he had always suspected she could have this energy, deep down in herself, she hadn’t fooled him completely. He had always known she wasn’t the controlled, conventional woman she so desperately wanted to appear in front of everyone. Her strict suits, her always-perfect hair, her light yet impeccable makeup. That is just a facade. That’s just “FBI Special Agent Scully”. 

Seven years beside her taught him that if you are patient enough, loyal enough to earn her trust, and then if you're very lucky, she will let you in, and you'll be able to see a little bit of what hides behind that mask. It’s still a long way from the true Scully who hides behind what looks like delicate skin but is really an indestructible armour of leather. The only way past that, if you are brave enough and he almost wasn’t, is to love her, to chip slowly away at the guards she puts up until finally, impossibly, this Scully will appear. One that can be lighthearted, sexy and youthful. Dana.

To his amazement and joy, the woman who’s with him right now, sitting across the table from him, drinking her third glass of champagne is not his partner, not the buttoned-up FBI agent. No trace of her remains, she’s just Dana. His best friend and lover. And he is delighted he can finally do something as trivial as holding her hand in public. She doesn’t mind. As a matter of fact, she looks like she’s enjoying it  too. When he squeezes her hand, reminding them both how perfectly their fingers fit together, the corner of her mouth can't hide the grin she tries to suppress, betraying her happiness.

They’ve been talking for almost an hour now, about everything and nothing, really. Chit chat with a flirty carefree Scully gives him a heady rush. The feeling is incredible to him. She is so relaxed tonight, that her optimism, her peace of mind, is infectious. Her funny childhood stories, the way she cocks her head in shyness whenever she indulges him to some until-now forbidden information about her personal past… She’s intoxicating. He’s almost as drunk on her, body and mind, as he is on the champagne they’ve been sipping.

Outside, the sun is setting, the light is slowly decreasing, but here with her it’s like time has frozen.  
The table where they’re seated by the window is tiny. Barely enough space for two drinks and the intertwined fingers of two lovers who want to forget the world around them and get lost in each other's eyes. It's perfect, he thinks. 

Perched on high stools, Mulder doesn't quite seem to know what to do with his long legs, while Scully’s are so short that she can only place her feet on the footrest of her seat. They are sitting so close together with their knees touching, and when his hands are not caressing hers over the table, they dive underneath, skimming over her upper thighs. 

And she likes it, the easiness of his caress, he can see it on her face, in the shimmer dancing in her eyes. She can let him do this here, what she would never dare to allow back in DC. He wouldn’t even try to touch her in public back there, he’s too aware she’d be afraid to be spotted by coworkers. She’d be too uncomfortable. So even though he’s constantly dying to take her hand, to touch her, to leap his fingers into her hair, he never does. And it’s fucking frustrating. 

But tonight’s different. They don't know anyone here, and nobody knows them. The restaurant is crowded, and yet it’s like they’re alone. They don’t have to be careful, they don’t need to hide. They can be as insouciant as they want to. Scully embraces that, reaching for Mulder’s cheek with her hand. He leans into her touch for a second, then traps her wrist with his fingers to bring her open palm to his mouth. The kiss he plants there is delicate, but the look in both their eyes is fierce and passionate. Keeping her hand in his, he finishes his glass and asks her.

“Want to tell me how you happen to be wearing the shirt I’ve been looking all over the place for months?” he asks with a grin.

He wants her to understand he’s not asking because he’s upset, but because of how much he loves the idea of Scully wanting one of his favorite shirts for herself badly enough that she’d take it without knowing how to ask. He finds it thrilling that she has secretly wanted him for so long. 

She responds with a coy smile and lowers her gaze in embarrassment. With her makeup and her headband gone, she looks so small. Blushing, her face covered in freckles and surrounded by unruly locks of hair, he thinks she’s never looked so young and so beautiful. 

“I’m sorry, Mulder. I didn’t mean to steal from you…” she answers, tugging nervously on the collar of the shirt she’s wearing. “I… you left it on your bed, in your apartment right after the Pfaster case… When I… crashed at your place for a few days.” 

He will never forget how vulnerable and torn that night had left her. If he could have, he would never have let go and would have kept his arms wrapped around her and her head tucked under his chin for the rest of their lives.

“I was looking for you and came to your room on the second morning, but you were in the shower… I guess… I just needed something to cling on to. Something to make it through these hard times. I picked it up, and… I don’t know if you’d just slept in it or… but your smell was somehow so reassuring. So soothing. I took it with me and hid it in my suitcase… I went back home and slept with it next to my pillow on my first night back there...”

She looks embarrassed and contrite, but he just thinks she’s the most adorable human being on the planet. 

“So you’ve had it all this time? That was what? 6 months ago?” he asks. 

“Yeah... “ she admits, looking into his eyes with hesitation. 

“You mean to tell me that you’ve slept with me… I mean, my smell, for the past 6 months?”

She can’t help but laugh. 

“Yeah, I took it out now and then when I felt lonely… But umm I washed it last week…” she says with a wink.  “It’s clean. I figured I didn’t need it anymore… Not now that I have the real thing lingering in my sheets…”

His heart suddenly beats faster and he can’t help but close his eyes in delight. Behind heavy eyelids, he can see her, naked on her bed, white skin on white cotton, pure and enticing, offering him her body and soul. He never wants to leave these open arms empty ever again, never wants to let her feel scared. He wants nothing more than to be the one and only thing she clings on to from now on. 

“I love you…” he softly whispers, opening his eyes to find her looking astounded. This surprises her, he knows, his blatant declaration taking her breath away. He suddenly needs the urge to add more.

“Yeah, I know I have said it before… But not since…” he goes on, and her eyes drop to her lap. “You never took me seriously before Scully… But... I hope you will now…”

His hand gently squeezes her wrist again, and she looks up to him, tears in her eyes. Her blue gaze has turned a greyish color, flooded with emotion. She releases a breath he wasn’t aware she was holding, and just softly replies “I do…”

And before he can add anything, she leans forward over the table, and traps his mouth with hers in a soft, lingering kiss. Their mouths are closed, delicate, and he wants nothing more than to kiss her back with passion, but doesn’t dare to do anything that could make her feel uncomfortable.

He decides to let her drive their embrace, and gasps when he feels her tongue faintly dart out to trace his bottom lip. It’s hard for him not to respond and duel her tongue with his. He’s getting hard by the second, and her silky touch is so erotic, so electric, that the need to touch her is impossible to tame. 

His hand travels to her neck, and a few seconds later, her head tilts more sideways, searching for a new angle, and she’s kissing him for all he’s worth, her tongue asking for permission to get into his mouth. She’s taking his breath away, and his heart and his dick are ready to explode. 

He sucks on her tongue for a brief moment before he quickly breaks the kiss with a heavy sigh, glancing sideways to make sure they’ve remained unnoticed. Luckily, people around seem like they couldn’t care less about the two lovebirds making out at the table by the window…

She looks disappointed, but her eyes are nearly black now, her dilated pupils so big he almost can’t find any trace of blue in them anymore. 

“Let’s get out of here” he says, their mouth still an inch away from one another. Her only response is to grin, and she reaches for the back pocket of her jeans to grab Skinner’s credit card. She calls for their waiter, and he’s there in an instant. She turns to him, hands him the card, saying “Oh and we’ll be taking one of those bubbly bottles to go please…” before she brings her eyes back to Mulder. “I wanna watch the sunset…” she says softly. 

“We better hurry up then…” Mulder answers. Luckily, the waiter is back with their bottle and the card in an instant, and they’re out the door in a matter of seconds.

As they walk hand in hand towards the beach across the street from the bar, he cannot believe his luck. She looks so gorgeous...

Every part of her, every bit, every little detail lights his senses on fire. He could spend hours just looking at her. The wind in her hair, softly brushing through her red locks, sometimes blowing hard enough to reveal the captivating contour of an earlobe that he’s fighting hard not to trap with his teeth right now. 

Her gaze, impish blue glowing in the receding sunlight, full with mischief—and God, those eyelashes… 

Her mouth, so full and fleshy, still swollen from the heated kiss they shared just a few minutes ago. Her bottom lip is so kissable that he wants nothing more than to trap it between his hungry teeth.

And her smile... Poets could write sonnets and rhymes about her smile without ever getting tired of it. Her smile alone could turn the world upside down. 

And that’s what she does. One more smile, and he’s happy again and it’s like he was never upset a few hours ago, like nothing wrong ever happened today. That gimcrack Hollywood filmmaker can go to hell and take his rubbish film with him. No. Nothing can go wrong in his world when Scully is smiling at him. 

They walk on the beach, and when they’ve come close enough to the waterline, they sit on the sand. At this time of year, LA is still warm at nightfall.

The night is slowly falling upon them, the moment lingering somewhere between light and darkness, between hope and resolution. The sky is turning some shade of impossible color, the kind of blueish purple that fades into pink and promises great tomorrows, and the blazing sun, orange fire on the waterline is slowly descending, simmering in the soft peaceful waves.

Scully takes off her shoes and makes her way in between his legs, bringing her back to rest against his chest. He opens his knees so she can sit more comfortably and she snuggles into him, her head falling against his broad shoulder. He nuzzles her hair for a while, kissing her neck and whispering about the sunset in her ears. 

When he pops the champagne open, foam spills next to him on the sand. She giggles and grabs the bottle, tilting her head backwards to catch a large gulp of alcohol, exposing her pure delicate white neck. 

They are silent, engulfed only by the light crashing sound of the soft waves ashore, and their eyes get lost on the burning sky, gaping at the horizon. The moment is so precious to Mulder that he would give anything to get a snapshot of the two of them right now, a picture of him and his arms draped around the woman he loves more than anything in the world. Something to remember and inscribe this night as the beginning of the rest of their lives. 

“So, Mulder **,** ” she breaks the quiet, her voice soft and peaceful. “Are you feeling any better?” 

“I guess so **,** ” he answers, looking at her with tenderness and swallowing a gulp of champagne when she hands him the bottle. He’s gonna have to stop drinking soon if he wants to keep control. Four drinks is normally his limit, and he’s had three at the bar. 

“Does that have to do with my company or with the alcohol that’s been going down your throat?” she giggles as she reaches for the pricey bottle again. She drinks straight from the bottle once more, and the liquid pouring down the bottleneck and into her open mouth is the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. He swallows a huge lump and has to concentrate hard on his breathing to be able to answer.

“I wanna say a little bit of both...” he replies with a wink when she slightly shifts her body sideways to have a better look at him. “But, you know… Truth is, Scully… Just the thought of spending the evening with you is enough. It doesn’t matter what we do, where we are… As long as I’m with you, really…”. 

_God, this is cheesy_ , he thinks and he’s almost ashamed of himself for sounding so sentimental. His hands fly to his head before he can identify Scully’s reaction to his statement. Palms on his cheeks, his fingertips press slightly along his eyebrows then reach his temples. He brushes his face in desolation, before he dares to open his eyes to look at her again. She’s smiling, and seeing his insecure reaction makes her giggle. He laughs back and says “Sorry Scully, I didn’t mean to sound so… Hollywood chick flick!” and she laughs out loud. 

“Don’t be sorry Mulder, that was sweet…” she says with a genuine loving smile, and her sincerity hits him. She really thinks he’s endearing. His heart swells with the understanding that she doesn’t think he’s cheesy at all.

Dammit, he’s so in love with her… He leans into her, slowly slipping his fingers through her hair on her neck, and this time, he’s the one who kisses her furiously on the lips, taking her breath away. His thumbs sensuously trace her jawline, and now that it’s a lot less crowded around them, he dares to graze his tongue along her lips, and she grants him access quickly. Her mouth opens, and her tongue caresses his. She tastes like champagne and she’s so delicious he’s fighting to control himself. 

He’s ready to lie her there on the beach and take her that very instant. She’s hungry for him too, and her hands are everywhere. On his back, his neck, his hair. She’s kissing him back like she needs this more than air in her lungs. When one hand decides to settle on his jaw, the other hooks on his knee, but slowly makes its way to his crotch. 

They make out for an oblivious and blissful amount of time and when the sun finally sets, sinking deep into the ocean, they’re not even looking at the horizon anymore. But they couldn’t care less. Their lips finally part when the need for air is inevitable, and she hums in delight, her forehead pressing against his.

“So I guess I finally took your mind off of that awful movie, right?” she teases him, pawing at his growing erection. He groans and she cannot resist the urge to pick on him a little more. “Besides, I’d be ready to bet that guy was wrong, Mulder… I’m sure your flashlight is way bigger than Skinner’s...”

With that, she stands up with a giggle, and smiles at him, a pure warm smile that illuminates her face, as she dusts away the sand that clings to her feet. And suddenly, his mouth goes drier than it already is. She turns her back to him and in a swift motion, unbuttons and unzips her jeans that quickly pool down at her ankles. She steps out of it, and the T-shirt she borrowed from him is so big that it looks like that’s all she’s wearing right now. Her legs are toned and long, even for her petite frame, and his mouth starts to water involuntarily. 

She stretches, and all of her movements are feline. He can see her body slowly extend, one muscle after the other. Her hands cross behind her neck and then her elbows unfold, palms going up high in the air trying to reach for the sky. His eyes are on the back of her legs, and as she stands on tiptoe, he can see her calves lengthen and the tendons behind her knees become taut before they come back to normal once she stops stretching. The hem on the shirt she’s wearing reached just under the curve of her ass when she tried to make herself taller, but now that she’s back on her feet, it’s pending mid-thigh. 

Without turning back to look at him, she starts to walk towards the water. He’s looking at her like she is the brightest star in the sky, with unlimited adoration and idolatry in his eyes. When she reaches halfway between him and the ocean, she stops, her back still to him, and his heart stills when she reaches for the hem of her shirt. As in slow motion, he watches her as she lifts it up slowly above her head, revealing a delicious amount of ivory skin and sending her hair flying around her, before she throws it aside on the sand.

The vision is like fire in his brain. She’s standing there, half naked, wearing a black bikini he never suspected she had underneath her clothes. Delicate knots on her hips, her swimsuit is so tiny it barely covers her ass. The top is just a strapless bra, revealing her bare delicate shoulder blades. Her tattoo is dark against her white skin, and immediately reminds him of the first time they had sex, when he took time to trace the outlines of it with his tongue and she’d moaned and sighed under his ministrations. 

He instantly gets up at the sight of her heavenly exposed body, and calls out to her.

“You never warned me you planned on going swimming! I don’t have  _ my _ swimsuit...”

She spins around, flashes him a defying glance and says “Are you afraid of a little skinny dipping? If so, there’s nothing I can do for you Mulder…” before she walks in the water.

The waves softly crash on her calves, and she walks deeper, until she can let herself fall into the arms of the water. As he walks to her, he can see she’s really enjoying this. The teasing, the flirting. She knows without a doubt he’s dying to touch her right now, even more so now that she’s only wearing a teeny bikini. 

Heat rises to his chest, and he’s now feeling so hot that without even noticing, he’s starting to unbutton his shirt. He looks at her, standing in the water a few feet away from him, desperately out of reach, and she smiles at the sight of him stripping. 

“We’ll freeze our butts off in there!” he says just loud enough for her to hear.

“Come on, G-man, I'll keep you warm…” she mouths from afar, and with that, he makes his mind and can't seem to get his clothes off fast enough. 

Of course he won’t go skinny dipping, it’s still early, and even if the beach **is** not crowded, there are some people around… But he’s very happy his black boxers will make the illusion. Quickly, his shirt, pants, socks and shoes drop next to his Knicks t-shirt on the sand, and he’s joining her in the waves. She swims away at first when she sees him entering the water, laughing like a kid. But he quickly swims up to her and capture **s** her body against his. The water between them is refreshing, but the heat of her chest crushing against him is enough to keep him warm. Her arms wrap around his neck, and his hands are instantly cupping her ass, toying with her bikini bottoms. 

“So… Guess you  _ are _ afraid of skinny dipping, Mulder?” she teases, her hands playing with the elastic of his boxers. She sways her head behind her so that the tip of her hair brushes the water. 

“I’m not afraid of skinny dipping Scully… But… We’re not alone on this beach… And… I didn’t want to blind anyone with my flashlight…”

She bursts into an honest laughter and he can’t help but heartily laugh with her at his own joke. He loves to make her laugh. It’s like a symphony to his ears. A warm blanket that envelops him into safety and quietude. He couldn’t explain how or why, but he’s come to realize that if he had to define her laugh, he’d talk about it as home…

He needs her closer, needs to really feel her. He leads her deeper in the water, to somewhere he knows her short legs won’t reach the bottom of the ocean. Soon enough, she has to wrap her legs around him for balance. He’s sure his hard-on hasn’t gone unnoticed, as she grinds herself against him with a loud gasp, their pelvises crushing against one another.

“Is it possible that you’re slightly drunk Scully?” he asks with a grin, looking at her feral eyes. 

“Oh it’s possible...” she answers assuredly before she kisses him again with hunger, longingly, impatiently. 

Tongues and teeth. Nibbling and sucking. Hot and wet. Loving and full of lust. It's too much. His erection is painful in his boxers and her hands in his hair massaging his scalp are sending shivers down his spine. 

“Scully… Maybe we shouldn't…”

“Sshhh, Mulder, just… Touch me please… I need you to touch me…” she pleads as her eyes close, waiting for his fingers to explore her. 

He doesn’t hesitate for much longer, and she gasps heavily when his hands finally cup her breasts and his fingertips find her nipples above her bra. He’s careful to keep her upper body under the waterline so that people on the shore won’t see what they’re doing. 

“If I touch you Scully, you have to promise to not be as vocal as you can be sometimes…” he teases, tugging on her top so that he can free her right breast and pinch on her already alert nipple.  

“Ughh” is all she can reply, and she crushes herself on his body, her hands trying to reach for his dick.

“Uh uh… No… Don’t… It’s about  _ me _ … touching  _ you _ … Scully” he adds capturing her wrist and bringing it back to his shoulder. “ _ I _ … am gonna touch  _ you _ , Dana. And you’re gonna come so hard you’re gonna want to scream, but you won’t, okay? Not with an audience around...”

She seems unable to answer with words and just nods frantically, locking her fingers together on the nape of his neck. Her half naked chest is brushing against his, and while his hands roam over her back, she kisses him deeply again. 

It’s not the first time he’s dealing with a tipsy Scully. Just a week ago, back in DC, they drank a little more than usual in her apartment after closing a case. It was on a Friday night and Scully decided to celebrate with a home cooked meal. They ate delicious food, drank two bottles of wine, and then when it was time for dessert, the chocolate icing o **n** the cake had turned into something way sexier than first intended… Scully had been feral, licking him all over and making sure his dick would explode with every flick of her tongue. The blowjob she gave him that night was the best he ever received… It is high time he returns the favor. 

When his fingers brush her folds above her panties, she heaves, her body undulating like a wave. His palm cups her mound and he applies enough pressure with the heel of her hand to make her moan again. 

“Sshhh… Be quiet or I’ll stop **,** ” he threatens.

“God, if you stop I’ll kill you, I swear… just... “ she replies, not finishing her sentence and letting the delicious sensations take her away. 

His fingers are wiggling against her entrance and he sees her biting her lip not to cry out her pleasure. Slowly, almost lazily, he parts her panties aside and brings his fingertips to her sex. He brushes away her curls with amazing tenderness, and when his middle finger finally slips through her folds, he can feel how ready she is for him. 

She’s not just wet because she’s swimming in the ocean. Her swollen flesh and the sticky moisture his finger collects is the evidence of her untamed arousal, and nothing else. Touching her in her most intimate place, he is stunned by the way she is heatedly looking at him, straight in the eyes. Her half closed lids and her chin rising, she’s riding his hand like she would ride his lap, were they sitting comfortably on his couch. She barely rocks against him, wobbling just faintly enough so his hand and fingers reach all the right places she wants him to reach. Her mouth is ajar and she keeps biting and licking her bottom lip like it’s coated in honey.    


When his finger enters her at last, a deep moan escapes her throat. He knows the invasion is too delicious for her—god it’s hard for him not to groan, too—so he doesn’t say anything about his concern of her being too loud, and keeps torturing her. 

She tames her reactions, but keeps uttering soft sighs, and when a second finger joins the first, pumping into her cunt more vigorously, it looks like all coherent thought leaves her brain. She fights hard to stay as still as possible and to keep all the sounds invading her throat silent, he can see. 

The water around them makes her weightless, light as a feather, and his movements are eased by the floating atmosphere. He can’t believe he’s really fucking her, here, out in the open, in the water, only a few feet away from the receding evening traffic and from oblivious people having a late picnic on the sand. His fingers are relentless. In and out. Never stopping. He can feel the pulse of life slowly pounding deep inside her, and when he crooks his fingers to find her G-spot and his thumb circles her clit, she is floating alright. Floating on the water, floating out of her body, floating out of her mind… 

Her inner walls are gradually tightening around his fingers and he can tell she’s close. His other hand is still grazing her puckered nipple and she looks like she’s about to sob with pleasure. He is about to explode too, but denies himself any movement, any friction that would bring him release. It’s all about her right now, all about Scully.

She can’t scream or whine like she’d normally want to, and so when he feels her walls gripping his fingers, clenching around him in a powerful orgasm, he is ready to kiss her to death to muffle her noises. But she resists the urge to cry and instead, all her nerve endings are singing in delight. She heaves powerful sighs, every parcel of her body covering in goosebumps, her mouth opening and closing in unspoken rapture. Her eyes are shut tight and her eyebrows are furrowed. 

Fuck, she’s so stunning... Her head drops to his shoulder and she pants like she’s running a marathon, trying to surf her wave of pleasure as quietly as possible. The spasms of her climax are long, longer than they ever were before, and when she finally comes down from her cloudy heights, her chest heaving madly against his, he withdraws his fingers and brings his mouth to hers. Their kiss is tender, almost chaste after what they've just done. 

When their gazes reconnect, he can see a single tear is about to escape her eye. They’re both clearly overwhelmed by what just happened. Her hands leave his neck to settle on his jawline and when she speaks again, the sincerity and the power of her words is like a volcano erupting inside his chest.

“I love you too... so much Mulder…” she declares in a whisper, before she kisses him again. “Please… Don’t ever let me float away…”. 

Her disclosure is both a promise and a plea, a song and lost call in the night. He’s the luckiest bastard in the world to be able to know that Dana Scully loves him… Yeah, nothing can go wrong when they’re together he repeats himself. He’s about to kiss her again when she brings her fingers to trace the outskirts of his bottom lip. With a wicked grin and a cock of an eyebrow, she finally adds :

“Now take me back to the hotel... Your flashlight seems like it has powerful new batteries, but I'm sure I can wear them out...”


End file.
